


Mein liebster Feind

by Charona



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Apologies, Arguing, Bad Jokes, Bilingual, Face-Fucking, Fights, First Time Blow Jobs, Groping, Hand Jobs, Hungary 2017, I don't know what happened here, Insults, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Some Humor, Swearing, Tenderness, idiots being idiots, where do i start...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charona/pseuds/Charona
Summary: Kevin certainly isn’t in the place he wants to be in. Mentally as well as career-wise. On top of everything he’s stuck there with Nico of all people. That’s the worst part of it.





	1. All bark and some bite

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks!  
> This is something entirely else, I dare say that this little thing occupied almost as much brain capacity (and time and energy and coffee, for that matter) as “Thunder and lightning”, which is… strange.  
> Anyway, this is a pairing that’s been ghosting through my mind for quite a while now and that finally gets its own story, because _that_ wouldn’t fit into “bridges”.  
> My first really smutty story by the way, enjoy^^  
> I never changed the grammatical tense of a story this many times, it somehow feels better in present tense; what do you think?  
> Have fun with these two and please pardon all the cursing, they turned out to be really bad-mouth-y xD  
> Tell me what you think about it!

“We should go to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow.”  
“You want me to go?”  
“Yeah, it’s less suspicious that way.”  
“That’s not what happened in _Pretty Woman_ , though.”  
“Come on, you’re not _that_ pretty, Hulk.”  
“Nah, it’s alright, I’m getting used to being the whore.”  
Kevin looks at Nico and meets the shield of sarcasm, he almost forgot Nico hides behind on a daily basis. He’s seen him so many times without it, that it’s hard to remember how cruel and harsh it makes Nico’s features look. The light on the nightstand casts a soft hue to the pale skin of his bare chest but his eyes are permafrost.  
Kevin thinks about the events of this evening. They’ve been out, separately. Nico has had dinner with Daniel. Kevin met up with Marcus after a long and busy day at the office. The season had been difficult so far and Canada had been a distinct low in his personal shit show of races for Haas.  
They have wanted to spend what was left of the evening together and in bed.  
Now Nico rummages through his clothes on the floor, visibly pissed, hell-bent to leave as fast as possible.  
“You know, forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”  
He picks up a shirt and puts it on without realising it is Kevin’s.  
Kevin rolls his eyes. Sometimes Nico acts like a prissy little girl and he hates it, because it overcomplicates the thing between them that is nothing but brilliant sex and banters. Kevin rakes his fingers through his hair, leaves them in a sweaty, blond mess. He still sits in bed, naked, the duvet a rumpled mess around his waist.  
“Nico, come on. You know we’ve talked about it so many times before. I’m not a fashion accessory you can showcase on race weekends. I won’t be the perfect little girlfriend that waits for you at home.”  
Nico’s head snaps up and he sees the hurt in his icy blue eyes.  
“All I’m asking for is _more_ , Kevin, is that so hard for you to understand? Is that such a surprise for you?” The venom slips from Nico’s words alongside his strength. He stands in the middle of the room, arms spread in a surrendering gesture. “Have you never thought about what we could have? What we could be, if we just dared a little bit more?” 

Kevin wants to answer, but two things pre-empt him. His mind doesn’t provide him with any suitable answer, is void of words all of a sudden. And Nico has apparently no interest whatsoever in receiving one, because the hotel room door falls shut behind him with a loud thud.  
Kevin is alone.  
He buries his face in his hands and takes a deep breath.  
“Pis!”

In retrospect Kevin has no clue, how and why and when it happened, where it all started.  
Well, that’s not entirely true, because he does know _exactly_ , where it started – where it escaladed so badly he thought his whole life would blow up in one colossal catastrophe. (It didn’t, quite the contrary, but still.)  
_Start, middle, end. Loss of control, crash, carnage._  
Hungary, 2017.

More precisely, Nico interrupting his post-race interview and throwing insults at him, soaked with biting sarcasm and covered with an annoyed, belligerent grin, topped by that god-awful outstretched hand – mocking, ironic, downright perverted. 

The thing Kevin despises about it the most is how for a split second he returns that smile and lifts his hand to catch Nico’s mid-air in a gesture of politeness and respect in the midst of ruthless on-track rivalry. But then Nico utters these famous words, mocks him further, drives him over the edge and Kevin _feels_ his smile melting from his face alongside his hand dropping limply to his side.  
“Congratulations. Once again, most unsporting driver on the grid!”  
_What the-?!_ Kevin’s brain short-circuits.  
“Suck my balls, honey.”  
The words leave his mouth without him having any say in it. He is absolutely livid. He can imagine Nico’s eyes widen with surprise at that, but he can’t decipher them behind his mandatory black sunglasses and on top of that doesn’t really care.  
The grip Nico placed on his bicep tightens to become painful and then it disappears again. For fractions of a second Kevin watches Nico’s slim back as the German carries on with his press duties as if nothing has happened and Kevin… well, Kevin stands there and stares. His brain is unable to close synapses, form thoughts, distinguish his memory of the just passed events from mere blaspheme images of his exhausted mind.  
He blinks, once, twice. Nico has disappeared.

Kevin smiles at the interviewer apologetically, genuinely sorry for her to have seen that shameful encounter. He tries to proceed the interview as calmly and professional as in any way possible, but the anger still circuits through every vain and pore of his body. 

Whoever thinks they may have collided right there in the paddock of the Hungaroring and fought it out hot headedly and pumped with adrenaline after the race, testosterone making them blind for any witnesses, is quite right. Professionalism and the simple circumstance that they don’t cross paths however make sure they don’t meet until hours after the race, but they do meet.  
And shit goes down. 

Kevin rummages through his black rucksack on the search for his headphones, when the door of his driver’s room flies open and hits the back wall with a loud bang. An absolutely furious Nico Hülkenberg waltzes into the room and into Kevin’s personal space faster than the Dane would prefer. Nico plants himself in front of him, a tower of fury and rage. Out of surprise or to escape the closeness, Kevin stumbles backwards a few steps, just to have Nico follow him immediately, staring down at him with nothing but fuming anger in his pale blue eyes. 

“What the _fuck_ was that about, Magnussen?!” he hisses and Kevin blinks. He goes through his options while scanning his rival’s face and decides to play it cool to counter Hülkenberg’s temper.  
“What do you mean?”  
Something flares up inside Nico’s eyes and Kevin knows, what it is, lifts his chin in a defiant, belligerent gesture as an answer.  
“You insulted me!”  
“After you mocked me in front of a whole team of journalists from my home country, in front of cameras. You had that coming.”  
Nico licks his lips, Kevin notices and squints his eyes. Nico’s finger is pointed at his chest, hovering there, threatening, not touching. Yet.  
“You were being an absolute prick on track, Magnussen. You cost me points today, just because of your typical stupid moves. Absolutely unprofessional, unneeded and risky.”  
“Risky?”  
Kevin can’t stop a cheeky grin from spreading on his lips.  
“Are you worried about me now, Hulk? Aaw, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m fine.” 

He elbows his way past Nico, grabs his bag and slings the cord of his headphones around his neck, before heading to the door. He has a plane to catch.  
Nico makes a step in his direction and his voice cuts through the cramped room like shrapnel of ice and metal.  
“Running from fights looks just like you. All bark and no bite. Taking responsibility for your actions isn’t really your thing, is it?!”  
_Oh, the irony_ , Kevin thinks and asks himself whether Nico Hülkenberg has simply added this cruel sarcasm into his repertoire of languages alongside his fluent English and decent French.  
He stops still in the doorway for a second and grins at Nico, before turning around.  
_Probably a mistake_.  
“Hey, feel free to stay here, if you like it that much.” He tells him, nonchalantly looking back over his shoulder. “But don’t get scared in the dark when they switch off the current for the venue in a few minutes. Pussy.”  
_Yeah, definitely a mistake_. 

Kevin walks quickly, in wide, lunging steps. God, is he fuming. His hands are normally numb from exhaustion and hot from encouraged blood flow after the races. Right now they are jittery and cold.  
Kevin _hears_ Nico following him rather than throwing a glance back over his shoulder. The “Verfluchtes Arschloch.”, muttered under his breath is too distinctively German and the strides reverberating from the glass walls are too decisive to belong to anyone else.  
Kevin braces himself for the next shove and rolls his eyes, when Nico grabs his shoulder and spins him around.  
“For fuck’s sake, stay and talk to me, coward.”  
Fury in infuriatingly blue eyes. But something shifted. Something changed. Nico’s blue eyes are dark, pupils widened. Kevin wriggles his arm away from the touch.  
“We’re not talking. You’re throwing insults at me and expect me to return them for whatever reason.”  
“You have no idea what I expect or want.”  
“Damn right, I don’t. And I don’t want to. Bugger off.”

With that Kevin turns around again and heads outside.  
Unsurprisingly, it is dark by now and they are alone. Kevin makes his way to the parking lot where a car would pick him up and take him to the airport. The air is still heavy with the scent of fuel and oil and burned rubber that would linger around the track for another couple of days. He takes a few deep intakes of breath and walks down the asphalted sidewalk. The milling and buzzing in the buildings to his left and right has stopped and dark glass mirrors the dazzling brightness from scattered floodlights along the pit lane. 

When Kevin hears Nico catching up with him he is close to wishing that German sass queen to the moon. Again there is a firm grip, on his upper arm this time and Kevin’s patience snaps.

“For fanden, let go off me!”, he snarls, followed by a comment that turns out to be his third and penultimate mistake. “You’re quite touchy, aren’t you? So you _do_ want to suck my balls in the end, is that it?” 

“So, jetzt reicht’s!”

The next thing Kevin registers is, that he gets robbed of his balance by a firm kick into his knee pit. His back hits a cold surface and Nico’s lower arm is pressed painfully against his throat, pinning him to place behind the corner of a tyre store. 

(Pause.)  
Kevin stares at Nico as if he has just crossed every line of decency, respect and humanity in existence. Then he huffs in pain. His fingers claw at Nico’s sweater, but the German makes no indication of loosening his grip. His whole body radiates heat, determination, resentment. His eyes are permafrost, his nostrils flare with the even and deep intakes of breath he takes, the muscles in his jaw work relentlessly – and Kevin can’t stop staring. He is as much ensnared by that icy blue fire in Nico’s eyes as by the vice-like chokehold. 

Something happened. Kevin rewinds their encounter in his mind and asks himself where things went downhill. _Jesus, where should I even start? It was a shit show from the begin-_

(Play.)  
His thoughts get cut off when Nico’s eyes change for the third time this evening. He looks at Kevin in a way that isn’t pure hate anymore, the anger is tinted with something else. Slowly Nico lifts his weight from Kevin’s neck and the Dane sucks in air gratefully. His fingers still dig into the fabric of Nico’s shirt.  
“That look on your face...” Nico says and a lopsided grin appears on his lips. Wolfish, contented, triumphant. “I like that better on you. All keyed up.”  
Kevin’s fingers twitch at the husk tone in Nico’s voice. The lower arm slips from his neck, gets replaced by a hand and his eyes widen comically at the touch. He swallows instinctively and Nico smirks. _Fuck_ , Kevin thinks when he _feels_ Nico moving, _grinding_ against him. His eyes flutter shut and he catches himself leaning into the warmth.  
A strangled noise escapes his lips.  
A thumb presses into the delicate skin of his neck and into the artery and – Kevin jolts into the touch, eyes flying open, mouth agape. The back of his head hits the wall and he blames that for the gasp that escapes his lips and not the bolt of electricity the touch shoots through every cell of his body.  
And Nico fucking _laughs_. Satisfied, smug, sexy.  
(Kevin knows, he could fight his way out of here. He could shove Nico away, twist his arm and destabilize him with a kick. A feeling tells him not to. A feeling and his achingly throbbing cock.) 

Kevin moves his hands instead. He detangles the grip from Nico’s sweater and places them into the back of Nico’s neck instead, an almost too tender motion considering their situation, considering Nico’s hand still firmly clutching his throat. But Kevin wants to touch him and he wants to touch that part of Nico that isn’t consumed by wrath – and a part of him gets scared when Nico tightens his grip even more and black spots start to dance at the corners of Kevin’s vision.  
He tilts his head back as far as possible, locking eyes with Nico, making sure he watches before closing them. Surrendering, yielding, accepting. 

“Fuck, Kev-“

Nico interrupts himself, voice hot and heavy, weighty with dominance and conflict and want. 

“I-“

And then Nico pulls Kevin closer by his fucking _throat_ and smashes their mouths together. It’s not as much a kiss as it is a fight, a show of dominance for Nico and revoked surrender for Kevin, because, _Shit_ , that isn’t at all what he has expected. He has expected a punch, a kick, passing out from the lack of oxygen. He didn’t expect chapped lips parting his own, a hot tongue slipping into his mouth, teeth raking over his stubble.  
(It is weird to kiss another man. Too familiar for once and at the same time equally challenging and hot. Shit.)  
Nico’s second hand slips into Kevin’s hair, scraping over his skull and pressing down on his neck. Everything about Nico yearns for Kevin and the sudden U-turn of the situation makes Kevin feel light-headed. That and the damned chokehold around his neck, which still keeps his air supply to the only just bearable minimum. Kevin has a hunch that this isn’t the first time Nico has someone (A girl? A rival?) keyed up like this and it makes his cock twitch. 

This is worse. (It’s a funny thought, though, that it would be worse to be caught making out with a rival in a dark corner of the paddock than in the middle of a fist fight with said rival; it tells a lot about the sport, as well.)

They part and breathe.  
They stare at each other in a deep state of shock. With all bodily connection broken they stand in front of each other naked, yet fully clothed, ready to punch, yet without any intention to hurt, scared, yet intrigued. Nico, who has hunted Kevin’s lips for a split second stops in the movement and blinks feverishly as if he’d just been woken up. _Question is from a good dream or a nightmare?_

Kevin finds the answer in Nico’s eyes. They are widened and stormy, grey and blue and every shade in between – and fixed on Kevin. Focus darting at his lips, then his neck and finally his eyes. 

“Did you just-“ _kiss me?_ , Kevin thinks and gets cut off by Nico for the second time, who leans in and presses his lips on Kevin’s again. This time it’s more a kiss than a demonstration, but still way too harsh. Nico’s breathing is a quiver against his cheeks and it’s more an avowal of weakness than Kevin can handle. He tightens his grip in Nico’s hair, steadies himself when Nico’s knee slips between his legs again. Their tongues circle around each other and Kevin scrapes his teeth over the sensitive muscle. 

They part again and suddenly they are equals. They eye each other and acknowledge what they are. Rivals, enemies, colleagues, totally riled up with each other right now. (Despite or because the unexpected turn of events?)  
“Fuck, I don’t know whether to kiss or to punch you.” Kevin murmurs and grabs Nico by the hem of his sweater to pull him closer. He has to get up on his tiptoes and it makes him smirk. Nico laughs harshly.  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
“Watch me.”  
Kevin lifts his hand and blatantly cups the bulge at the front of Nico’s jeans, presses a thumb firmly against the heat, takes in Nico’s sharp intake of breath and clenching fist. He could play dirty, too.  
Nico hisses and his hand flies to Kevin’s throat again, presses him back against the wall.  
“Stay.” He growls gravely and the sound does something inexplicable to Kevin’s crotch.

Nico clenches his jaw and makes sure Kevin does as he’s told before he lowers his head. Teeth rake over Kevin’s cheek, bite his stubble, burry themselves deep into his earlobe. A low moan escapes the depth of his stomach, when Nico presses his thigh against his crotch.

“You like that, mh?”, Nico smirks. His flat palm strokes over Kevin’s throat, stops the Adam’s apple from jumping feverishly when he tries to swallow. Kevin can’t think anymore, can’t think about that they are doing here and what it means and how his whole body is ablaze.  
The hand wanders deeper, tugs at the hem of his shirt. The wings of Kevin’s chest tattoo protrude from the fabric and Nico huffs.  
“Right. You’ve got tattoos everywhere, don’t you?” The knee between his legs adds more pressure and Kevin gasps. “There, too?” Kevin shakes his head, licks his lips.  
“No, that hurts like hell.”  
Nico stops still for a second, honest interest flashing across his face.  
“Really?”  
Kevin smirks, nods and bites his lip, when Nico’s hand slips underneath his loose shirt and blunt fingernails scratch over his upper body.  
“Fuck.” Kevin gasps and his head lulls back against the wall. Is he that touch-starved?!  
“Nico.”  
The fingernails dig deeper, leave red lines in pale skin, black ink. Nico fumbles with the button of his jeans for mere seconds, before his hand slips underneath the fabric. 

“You’re quite a cheeky one, aren’t you?” Nico asks, eyes darkened with lust, when he searches and finds Kevin’s ass and squeezes tightly. “Used to getting what you want, right? No surprise with that cute smile of yours. Like a real little tinsel angel.”  
A grin splits Nico’s lips and Kevin can’t shake the feeling that there is a modicum of fondness in his expression.  
“But you really need to learn how sportsmanship works, man.”  
“And you need to be taught some manners in the press pen.”  
“Asshole.”  
“Prick.”

They grin at each other openly and Kevin lets his thumb trace over Nico’s up curved lips.  
“You got a dirty mouth on you, mate. You should put it to some good use.”  
Nico’s eyes flare up, twinkle provocative.  
“Are you really just trying to order me around?”  
“Who says, I’m just trying?”  
With that Kevin slips his hand quickly underneath the loose waistband of Nico’s jeans and cups his steely hard cock. Nico shifts and squirms and his head sinks to Kevin’s shoulder. Hot, frantic gasps hit his collarbone, when Kevin starts to work his cock with tight and fast movements.  
He spreads pre-cum with his thumb, presses it into the slit relentlessly and earns a loud gasps from Nico.  
“Sshh, quiet.”, he murmurs and presses his other hand down on Nico’s neck, holds him close.  
(Would anyone walk past the building, they’d see nothing but slightly moving shadows or two hugging figures in the dark.)  
“Fuck, Kevin.”  
It’s a _whimper_ and Kevin realises how close Nico really is to coming undone in his pants, just from a few strokes. He grips his cock even tighter, too tight to be comfortable, just to keep up the blazing heat a little while longer. Nico moans and bites down on Kevin’s shoulder again, leaving mark after mark. Kevin’s movements grow slack for a moment, when he grabs a fistful of Nico’s hair and pulls him back. Nico’s teeth leave his skin and Kevin hisses at the burning sensation. 

He stares into Nico’s fiery eyes, pitch black pupils widened to an animally extend.  
“Stop biting.” Kevin orders and tightens his grip around Nico’s cock to enhance his point.  
“Au…” is the soft moan he gets in return. “Okay, just… please… fuck!”  
“What, huh? What do you want?”  
Kevin likes this game. He really does like the way Nico has to tilt his head back in order to not lose a smattering of hair, his mouth agape, lips bruised and wet. His cock leaks pre-cum like a broken faucet, twitches eagerly, hot steel under soft flushed skin.  
“Kevin…”  
“Tell me, what you want.”  
“Shit, Kev, make me cum.”  
And Kevin does. He moves his hand again and flicks his ankle with a light twist. He works Nico’s cock with frantic, rough strokes, from the base to the wet tip. He drowns out the loud moan with a harsh kiss, fucks into Nico’s mouth with his tongue in the same fast rhythm. He holds him close, mutters “Come for me.” against his lips and his movements grow savage, long tight strokes, again and again and again and – Nico tenses up, clings to Kevin with all force, fingers digging into his hipbone painfully as hot cum splashes over Kevin’s hand. He adds a few more strokes and stops still when a pained hiss escapes Nico’s mouth. 

“Fucking hell.”, he mutters and stares at Kevin openly, unashamed, but rumbled and ruined. The sight is too much for Kevin.  
“On your knees.”  
Nico’s answer contains a hoarse laughter and a bite to Kevin’s shoulder he _feels_ will leave a bruise.  
“Make me.”  
And Kevin does. He brings leverage onto Nico with his knee behind the German’s and it needs nothing more but a firm shove and Nico’s legs buckle underneath him.  
Nico is taken by complete surprise when his knees hit the tarmac forcefully.  
Kevin wiggles down his jeans a bit and pulls Nico closer by his hair.  
“Suck.” He orders and expects Nico to squirm away, insult him, refuse, but Nico in his post orgasm fog opens his mouth eagerly and licks over the tip of Kevin’s cock testily. Kevin’s knees tremble at the sensation. And suddenly Nico is all over him. He takes him in as deeply as he dares to, pushes his gag reflex, and exhausts the capacity of his mouth. Kevin’s eyes widen and a deep roar escapes his throat. Nico’s tongue twirls around the tip, licks into the slit eagerly and down the shaft, spreading spit and heat. Teeth scratch over the sensitive skin and Kevin hisses.  
“Fuck, don’t you bite.” It’s a threat and Nico answers with an apologetic flick of his tongue. His hand tightens around Nico’s skull and he tries a first thrust into the wet heat. Nico gags and spits out his cock with a vulgar sound. Feverish blue eyes stare up at him angrily.  
“Hell, no. Forget it.” Kevin just smirks, cups his cheeks and guides him down again. _We’ll see._ , he thinks smugly.

Nico’s eyes flutter shut and he lets Kevin take the lead reluctantly. Kevin holds him in place and thrusts into his mouth. His head sinks back against the wall and Nico’s fingernails dig into the soft skin of his hip.  
“Fuck.” He curses, when Nico suddenly opens up wider and his cock buries itself deep into his throat. Nico wants to spit him out again, but Kevin holds him in place with a firm grip.  
“No.” his voice is firmer and darker than he imagined it to be. “Relax. Let me…”  
Nico squirms, labours a shaky breath, but stays in place. Kevin feels his mouth loosening up and blinks feverishly when Nico looks up at him with tears swimming in the corner of his widened eyes.  
Then he closes them and Kevin almost comes at the bare sight of that. Nico, on his knees, with Kevin’s cock buried deep in his throat, all sarcasm and fight abandoned, keyed up and at his mercy.  
And Kevin intends to make use of that. He moves, pulls out almost completely and when he’s sure Nico has taken a deep intake of breath, pushes in again until he meets the resistance of his tight throat. The heat is wet and slick and more than Kevin can handle. He stirs Nico’s head, pulls him close by the back of his skull and moans hoarsely when a hot tongue twists around his shaft.  
“Fuck, you’re a little slut, you know that?”  
He _feels_ Nico smirk and it makes him lose control.  
He clenches a fist into his hair and thrusts into his mouth ferociously. His head tilted back, mouth hanging open and hands buried in Nico’s hair, he feels his orgasm rolling towards him like a gigantic wave. Saliva drops from Nico’s chin, he moans against his cock and scratches over Kevin’s ass cheeks.  
It makes Kevin come down Nico’s throat with one dark enduring groan. Specks of false light dance at the edges of Kevin’s vision, when he lets go of him and hauls him to his feet, pulls him close. Nico swallows frantically, wipes over his mouth and coughs. 

“Fuck.” Kevin gasps, knees trembling, hands shaking and cups Nico’s face. “You’re something else.”  
He grins and wipes away a drop of saliva from his cheek.  
Nico sniffles and his head drops to Kevin’s shoulder limply. The movement makes Kevin smirk and he coos some nonsense while drawing firm circles over Nico’s quivering back.  
They stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity or two. Their breathing falls into sync, Nico’s thumb strokes over Kevin’s side in an almost tender touch.  
Kevin is scared. He’s never been more scared in his entire life and he is used to drive a car at 200 miles per hour with twenty other lunatics on a narrow track.  
Nico hums against the crook of his neck when Kevin combs his digits through his hair in a soothing motion and the sound gives him courage. 

“Wow…”  
He murmurs and Nico laughs hoarsely at that, the flow of air a soft tickle against Kevin’s sore neck.  
Nico‘s head still rests on his shoulder and it is strange in itself. All his life Kevin has offered a shoulder to lean on to girls and later women. They’ve all been smaller than himself, have nuzzled into the crook of his arm, slung their hands around his waist, looked up at him. Flowery perfume, long, fuzzy hair, soft curves.  
Now Nico stands in front of him, awkwardly bent down, because he’s much taller than Kevin, one hand still heavy on his hip. Stubble tickles the skin between his neck and the hem of his shirt. Musky scent, sturdy muscles, a dark chuckle.  
Kevin blinks and swallows. He feels his neck swelling up a little already.  
“You really just kissed me…”  
His words are met by an ironic snort.  
“After everything that we just did, your go-to pick is the kiss? Wow…”  
“Shut up. You know, what I mean.”  
Nico does and it fills him with an inexplicable feeling of affection towards him.  
“You kissed me back.”  
It’s not a question, Nico doesn’t expect an answer. Kevin lets his digits run through Nico’s hair again, soft dark-blond strands spill through his fingers like water.  
“You kissed me back, although you could have fought me off. You could have got out.”  
Nico knows and Kevin knows and they’ve probably known all along. 

Kevin’s smile is wide and unapologetic, when he puts a peck into Nico’s hair, who’s still strangely hunched to rest his head on Kevin’s shoulder.  
“We’re such a mess, it’s unbelievable. But hey, you should be an asshole on track more often.”  
Kevin’s body vibrates with suppressed laughter and Nico chuckles hoarsely, when he lifts his head.  
“I will be, no worries.” He nudges Nico with his elbow and gets a shove back.  
“Now you owe me a blow job, asshole.”  
“Pff, yeah, you wish.”  
Nico stretches himself and grins up at Kevin belligerently.  
“Probably, yeah.”

They look at each other, headstrong and bold. Nico lets his hand trace over Kevin’s jaw and bows down for a heated kiss.  
“We’ll see.”

Oh, they did see. What started with a heated collision in Hungary turned into a fiery, passionate affair alongside impossible jokes concerning testicles and nicknames including one that contains the term “bee poop”. They are never tender and soft around each other, never have to and secretly Kevin has grown unbelievably fond of it – not having to deflect, not having to hide, being himself. 

“Fuck.” Kevin mutters and leans back against the headrest of the bed.  
It’s been two years of amazing sex, really, but there isn’t more to it. They established three very distinctive rules after Hungary and stuck to it ever since.  
Rule number one: What happens on track stays on track. It works because they fuck it out properly before even taking about the previous events whenever they meet up after races. It’s a simpler rule than Kevin has expected it to be at first.  
Second: They don’t talk to each other in the paddock, not a single word. They hide behind the “Suck my balls” incident and the enmity the media labelled their relationship with.  
Third: They have girlfriends that function as partners in their daily lives and bait for the cameras on race weekends.  
It’s ironic that there exist exactly zero photographs of Nico together with his girlfriend or of Kevin with his own. And it’s downright sarcastic that in a world of twitter, tumblr and co. no one ever linked that coincidental habit of two very un-coincidental enemies. It’s good to be able to point a finger at each other and go “He’s an idiot!”.  
Offence is the best defence. 

Kevin crumbles up the blanket in his lap and clenches his jaw.  
He fumbles for his phone and casts away the idea of texting Nico again. He’s busy pouting anyway.

To be honest, Kevin has waited for it to end in a disaster, a blow to their faces, true hate. It obviously happened just now and the thought churns Kevin’s insides in an icy and painful grip. Although it isn’t hate, it is indifference and that is even worse, because the thought of not being important to Nico, to not mean _something_ to him is a whole other level of unbearable than the occasionally “Asshole.” Nico throws at him. 

Kevin turns around, lays aside his phone screen down and switches off the lamp on the nightstand. 

Nico will come back. He always does. 

(Not this time around, though.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words from other languages I used:  
> „Mein liebster Feind“ – „my favourite fiend“  
> “Pis” (Danish) – “Shit!”  
> „Verfluchtes Arschloch“ – „damned asshole“  
> „So jetzt reicht’s.“ – “That does it!”  
> “For fanden” (Danish) – something between „Damn it“ and „For fuck’s sake!” 
> 
> Title is German and originates from a documentary about the very difficult relationship between the German actor Klaus Kinski and Werner Herzog, a director he frequently worked with. They _despised_ and compromised each other at any given opportunity, but they worked on over a dozen projects for over 20 years. They were artists and friends and enemies. 
> 
> I hope you had fun and enjoyed this quite violent/funny/angsty stuff of mine. One more chapter to come, stay tuned!
> 
> Read you soon  
> Charona


	2. Cum to terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weeks of pondering and longing come to an end when Kevin finally comes up with a plan to make it up to Nico - but what if stubborness and hurt pride get in their way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy epic shit balls! (hehe, thanks, **RowdyKitty** for that one, totally gonna steal it from you xD)
> 
> Wow, this went down way better than I thought :D Special thanks to **lily_katie** , **RowdyKitty** , **Rizz07** , **GoodThingsHappenSometimes** and **londonbird** for the uplifting and simply mind-blowingly kind comments! You guys are amazing! :DD
> 
> Let’s see, if Kevin can fix the things that went so _horribly_ wrong ;)
> 
> Have fun with this chapter and tell me what you think about it!

He’s ignoring his texts. Nico is ignoring Kevin’s texts and it gets to Kevin in a way he surely isn’t proud of. 

It’s been weeks now and it dawns on Kevin that he’s ultimately about to lose his mind. Nico ignores him in France and Kevin reckons it’s because it’s his home race and him and Daniel are constantly busy like the bees they resemble so closely in their black and yellow team jackets. But he keeps ignoring him in Austria and Kevin catches himself checking his phone and scanning the pit lane for the tall blonde again and again and _again_. 

Another, second thought is even more infuriating. It's the question whether Nico is really consciously avoiding him or their usual upheld façade of blatant and cold ignorance towards each other gets in their (Kevin’s) way – and the simple fact that he can’t tell the difference rubs at his already strained nerves and composure to an amount that reflects in his performance, a circumstance that annoys Kevin beyond measure.  
He slowly but steadily goes stir crazy in his own mind, when he scrolls through his messages in a dull routine he is helplessly enslaved in by now and still doesn’t find an answer from the German. His texts grow from casual over irritated to angry and at one infamous low of nocturnal drunk pondering Kevin sends him a needy apology.  
It’s all in vain, though, Nico simply doesn’t _want_ to talk to him. 

Kevin misses the sex, the bruises Nico deliberately scattered all over his body every time they’ve been together, the scratches on his back, the bite marks on his neck. (His trainer once muttered under his breath that Kevin should stop fighting wildcats in his free time and Kevin choked on the swig of water he just took.) Now the bruises fade from dark purple to light green and finally disappear during the two week interlude between France and Austria. The physical pain Kevin is so into since he collided with Nico for the first time two years ago gets replaced by aching longing Kevin can’t handle, as it turns out.

It gets so bad, that Kevin dreams about having sex with Nico. For several nights in a row he dreams about being pressed up against a garage wall, sturdy muscles in his back, hot breaths tingling his neck, the beautifully painful bliss of Nico’s hard cock up his ass. Every single time Kevin wakes up to the demanding shrill of his alarm clock, drenched in sweat, cum from an utterly useless hard-on damping his shorts and cooling rapidly. It’s disgusting.  
_He_ is disgusting and he blames everything and everyone in his surroundings for it for as long as it is humanly possible. He is antsy, irritable, downright unenjoyable and it’s Marcus, who steps in on one cloudy weekday in London before the Silverstone GP.  
He gives him a long, enduring speech about how to treat his friends in order to not scare them away. At first Kevin gets angry at the Swede, but with every spoken word the irritation makes room for reluctant remorse. In the end Kevin is slouched into the far corner of the couch, holding up his beer in a week attempt of a shield, pouting and embarrassed and annoyed to his very bones. Marcus ends his monologue with an unnerved sigh. “So start to own up to your damn problems. And talk to Nico, for crying out loud. You’re terrible when you’re not getting enough sex.”  
Kevin just growls something into his pint and clenches his jaw.  
_Pis!_

What he doesn’t tell Marcus is how much it really gets to him. (Because Marcus, like everyone else in Kevin’s environment believes the act of mutual hostility and Kevin can’t find the strength to admit any weakness with a sudden confession about their hidden affair – not on top of everything else that has already piled up in his mind.) Kevin keeps his guard up. He hides behind his anger of being ignored, his injured pride just to not have to deal with the gnawing sensation that rises up his throat and tastes disgustingly sour like bile. It holds his innards in a firm and icy grip, twists them and makes him dizzy, whenever the beast raises its ugly head (or every time Kevin is alone and it gets a chance to roar up in his mind).  
Fear. Fear of having lost something of value, someone of meaning, Nico.  
It dawns on Kevin, that he drove Nico away for good this time. _I shouldn’t have brushed him off like that_ , he thinks and rubs over his burning eyes, _What if he was right?_. 

Other things mingle with the painful fear tearing at his heart. Regret of not having kissed Nico _once_ the way he should have in over two years. Regret of being an aggressive idiot on way too many occasions. Regret of never having stayed the night, never having slept and woken up next to each other. Regret of never taking enough time to worship the body decades of strict diets and crucial workouts have shaped into a tool of excellent performance, sculpted into defined elegancy. Regret of not having said all the things he should have said over the course of two years. How downright beautiful Nico is on him, how much he means to him, how deeply he is affected by his mere existence. It all becomes clear to Kevin now and he is crushed by _remorse_ to an extent that shakes the very grounds of his life. 

It’s Thursday before Silverstone, after the press duties are fulfilled and fans satisfied. Kevin lurks around the lavishly designed hotel lobby and tries to wait for Nico as unsuspiciously as possible. Daniel sees him, winks and disappears toward the lifts. Kevin bites his tongue and curses mentally.  
Nico appears followed by Verstappen. They talk Dutch and the mere fact that Kevin doesn’t understand what they’re saying, the joyous mood and the chummy nudge, which Max deals against Nico’s shoulder, make Kevin growl into the collar of his shirt. They disappear without Nico even taking the slightest notice of Kevin.  
_Well, that was terrific._ , Kevin states mentally and doesn’t even realise he does it in the same clean-cut sarcasm he unknowingly adapted from Nico around this time last year. 

It’s late at night after another disillusioning practice session and hours and hours of briefings and meetings that Kevin makes the bold decision to step up his game and confront Nico. Romain has deliberately granted Kevin with the knowledge, that the more tennis enthusiastic part of the grid has met up at Kvyat’s room to watch Wimbledon and Kevin sees his chance in that.  
He spends the evening with a proper shave, a shower and fidgeting with his hair for a good amount of time while running up and down his room in a never ending circle. Balcony door, bed, desk, closet, back to the window. The grunting of tennis players on his TV composes a dull background sound to his pattering feet. He hates tennis, he realises and rolls his eyes. He just watches the match in order to feel close to Nico, because he is somewhere in this hotel, sitting on a couch and following the events on the screen with great interest. Kevin ruffles his hair again and presses his hot forehead against the cool window glass. He despises this whole pathetic existence his life turned into during the last weeks of being so thoroughly ignored by the German.  
It’s a miracle, really, that he hasn’t put his car into a wall yet with his mind being occupied with absolutely _everything_ but racing. And _everything_ for Kevin turns out to be everything involving _Nico_ , the man he sleeps with on occasions, a rival, his predestined archenemy.  
Kevin stares at his watch again, urges the hands to move quicker ( _for pokker!_ ) and recaps his plan over and over again in his head.  
The second the match ends, Kevin braces himself and puts his plan into action. 

It’s an acrobatic feat, really, and if Günther saw him like that, he’d chuck him out on his ear, but Kevin manages to climb down the rails of his balcony and lever open the door to Nico’s room.  
It’s dark inside and Kevin knocks over an expensive looking vase on his search for the switch of the standard lamp.  
Nico’s room is a loving mess. Clothes are scattered everywhere, belts and sunglasses lay on the desk next to the TV and Kevin stumbles over three pair of shoes before he even makes it to the bed.  
He sits back on the mattress and can just so overpower the urge to bury his nose in Nico’s pillow.  
He may be desperate, but he’s not _that_ desperate. 

It takes Nico less than half an hour to return to his hotel room. Kevin’s breathing hitches when he hears his steps outside and then the metallic click of the key card unlocking the door.  
Nico looks tired, but in a relaxed and positive way, the sensation of heavy limbs and slow thinking after a long day full of mastering challenging tasks and having good conversations. That changes the second he spots Kevin leaning against the wall of his bedroom with a Motorsport magazine in his hands, which he casually skimmed through.  
“Heilige Scheiße!”, he hisses in utter shock and stumbles backwards.  
Kevin raises an eyebrow and throws the magazine aside, facing Nico instead. The German though makes no indication in bestowing Kevin with any more than his earlier expression of surprise and disappears into the bathroom without another word. Kevin clicks his tongue and waits, hears the buzz of an electrical toothbrush and water running.  
The (a tad annoyed, maybe) intake of breath Kevin has just drawn gets stuck in his throat with a strangled noise, when Nico returns wearing nothing more than loose black shorts, that hang unnecessarily low. Underneath his hip bone, presenting attractive muscles and a thin trail of blond pubes. Kevin squints his eyes.  
Nico still makes no indication in taking any further notice of him, climbs onto the bed instead and covers himself with the blanket, his back turned to the apparently unwanted visitor.  
It’s the fact that Nico doesn’t even look for a fight, doesn’t provoke a collision that shows Kevin just how bad he fucked up. 

Kevin stands in the middle of the room and feels all dressed up and with nowhere to go. It annoys him like hell.  
“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me sleep?”, snaps Nico in an instant and again Kevin is strangely void of words. He interprets it freely as an invitation and slowly approaches the bed as if it was a dangerous animal, guarding its owner with teeth and claws if necessary.  
“You’re quite cute when you sleep.”, he hears himself say.  
Nico snorts a laugh and lifts his head a little from the embrace of the soft pillow. Suddenly Kevin regrets his earlier decision to not have taken in Nico’s scent that surely lingers in the white cotton.  
He cautiously sits down on the bed and toes of his sneakers. The bed is soft and comfortable and Kevin feels the tiredness of a long and exhausting day pull him into the sheets.  
Nico’s voice snaps him back to reality again, alert, wary and accusing.  
“What are you doing here? And how the hell did you get in here?”  
Kevin thinks about that question for a moment and decides to stick to the truth.  
“Your balcony door isn’t locked. I stole a knife from the dining room and climbed over the rails of my balcony to get to yours and opened it with the knife.”  
Nico turns around and faces Kevin for the first time in weeks. His eyes widen at first and then he squints them sceptically.  
“You climbed down three floors over balcony rails?”  
“And a downpipe and a scaffold. I boulder frequently, no worries.”  
But worry isn’t what Nico radiates. He stares at Kevin intently and his whole expression is a book with seven seals to the Dane.  
“You broke into my hotel room.”  
“I just opened a door that wasn’t thoroughly locked.”  
Nico stares at him and Kevin notices that the anger about his intrusion is slowly but steadily overthrown by admiration and surprise. He wouldn't have let him in, if Kevin knocked on his hotel room door like a normal person and they both know it.  
“Great effort just to watch me sleeping.”  
“I could keep you awake. I know, how.”  
Kevin said that without thinking about it twice and he realises it isn’t the best approach, when Nico’s shoulders tense up and he huffs sarcastically.  
“Asshole.”  
Kevin shrugs and shoves his trembling hands into his jeans pockets, deciding to watch the ceiling rather than the blonde next to him.

“You weren’t answering my texts.”, he murmurs and tries to not make it sound accusing. (He fails.)  
“I didn’t want to talk to you.”  
Kevin swallows drily and tries to read Nico again, but the German is a mystery to him in the way he lays in bed, face blank, body heavy with exhaustion.  
“And now you do?”, he asks, following an instinct and hoping it doesn’t betray him. 

Something flashes across Nico’s features, when he ruffles his hair and licks his lips. The air shifts minutely in the second Nico looks him in the eyes and opens his mouth.  
“You said you’d want to die in the car.”

It catches Kevin completely off-guard and he blinks a few times. Then it hits him like a train. Netflix. The documentary. He remembers his words about risks and driving and he recalls the way he said them and the way the media handled them afterwards.  
He sighs and rubs his forehead, questions tumbling in and out of his mind as if he’d skim through them like he did with the magazine minutes ago. 

“They twisted my words quite a bit, to be honest.” He says. “I never said, I’d want to die in the car. I said, I wasn’t afraid of dying in the car, while doing what I love so much. There is a difference.”  
Nico stares at him with squinted eyes and Kevin contemplates his next words, weighs them as accurately as possible on his tongue. He wants to touch Nico so badly, but doesn’t know if he is allowed to. Yet.  
He gathers his courage and continues talking while fidgeting with the blanket.  
“And to be completely honest, that isn’t true anymore. Something changed. For the first time of my life I was scared.”  
It’s harder a confession to make than Kevin has expected it to be. His heart races through his chest and the words cling to his dry throat as if they wanted to climb right back into his soul. But they are out and hang in the space between them on the bed and it scares Kevin even more. He swallows frantically. 

Suddenly there is a warm hand touching his arm and it’s a shock _again_ , an unexpected turn of events. He lifts his head and meets Nico’s smiling eyes, bright blue inviting him in for the first time in almost two months.  
“What are you scared of, Kev?”  
_Losing you._ bellows his mind in a strange mixture of a mighty roar and a frightened whisper. Kevin licks his lips curtly and shakes his head to drown out this inner voice.  
“I’m not sure whether it’s truly fear, but for the first time of my life I felt like I had unfinished business and the thought of the sheer possibility of getting hurt, of not being able to see to that, got to me in a way that…” he falters and sucks in air rapidly. “that actually frightened me. If something had happened in France or Austria, I would have regretted something and that’s a first for me.” 

The hand on his bicep tightens and Nico’s thumb circles over the hem of his shirt, right above his tattoo. Belief, time, love. The three great pillars building the foundation of Kevin’s heart and soul. Nico’s touch is warm and the physical contact is an act of violence in all its tenderness. He looks at Kevin intently, still wary, but less defiant. He radiates interest and to Kevin’s biggest surprise something that doesn’t fall far from worry.  
“You mean me, don’t you? Me and the fight we had?”  
“Yes.” Kevin mutters. “It’s been on my mind all the time. You’ve been on my mind all the time. It eats away my focus and I hate it, because I don’t know how to handle that whole thing, us, and there is nothing I hate more than uncertainty and the feeling of weakness.”  
He laughs hoarsely and now the words tumble over his lips in a constant dribble of bottled up emotions that finally find an outlet.  
“The thing is, no one has ever had that much power over me and certainly not by ignoring me. I’m a proud idiot, I’m the one, who ignores people, you know? I’m not used to being a plaything to others. I don’t care what people think about me, but you… I care about you like I never cared about anyone else and it scares me and that’s the reason why we should talk. About everything.” 

He pauses. Nico just looks at him and waits and it’s greater a relief than Kevin had dared to hope for.  
He takes a shaky intake of breath and tries to remember all the things he wanted to lay bare in front of Nico, all the things that capsized his brain during the last weeks of silence between them.  
He clears his throat.  
“Could you just let me talk, please? Just listen. You can still kick me out after I finished, alright?” There is no answer and Kevin interprets it as another invitation. He licks his lips and lifts a hand to play with the blanket covering Nico’s bare chest. 

“A few things need to change in order to make this thing between us work. I know, we established our rules quite early and I’m still okay with them, they protect us, but I get your point. We can’t keep on doing this the way we have. It can’t just be sex. And that’s the first thing I’d like to discuss with you.” Kevin licks his lips again and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart. _Jesus, this is difficult_ , he thinks.  
“I know, you hate labels. And normally I would fully agree with you, they are overrated, but I think we should give that thing between us a name. And in order to name it properly and come to terms with that, we should talk about our…” he falters and shakes his head. “God damn it, we need to talk about our feelings, about what we are to each other. We need to make room for that from time to time, otherwise we will forget that our enmity is just show.”  
Nico nods, but his shoulders are tense and his breaths are uneven. _At least he hasn’t interrupted me yet._ , Kevin reckons. 

“You know, that Hungary 2017 is the only time we’ve ever been on camera together and it went horribly wrong.”  
“Do you want us to hold hands and flirt in front of the whole world?” Nico suddenly says, laughs and it sounds not as humourlessly as he intended. “We’re not Daniel and Max.”  
“Nah, thank God.” Kevin smirks and shakes his head. “All I’m saying is, we could try to act like normal people when we’re at the same place without scurrying off as soon as we see each other. We could become friends in the public eye.”  
The fact that Nico truthfully thinks about it before answering, makes Kevin’s heart leap in adoration – just to stumble through his chest in panic at Nico’s response. 

“I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t think, we _can_ be friends.”  
“So it’s just sex and hatred? Wow…” Kevin tries to hide the hurt that spreads in his stomach and fails completely. His voice falters and he swallows drily.  
Nico next to him laughs that short, infuriatingly hot laughter of his and clicks his tongue.  
“That’s not what I’m saying, idiot. I think we will never be _just_ friends. Partly I really believe we are too much the assholes we are at heart to form a friendship. We’re too often at each other’s throats for all kind of reasons and certainly with different intentions.” A smug grin splits his lip and Kevin huffs in agreement. “But the last weeks have provided me with a lot of time to think it through. I don’t want to be without you anymore, either.”  
The sentence hovers between them and shifts the atmosphere. The lamp on the nightstand casts a soft light onto the walls, tinting everything golden. Nico sits up in bed, leans towards Kevin and there is the hand on his arm again. Kevin can only stare at the carelessly scattered birth marks on his shoulder.  
Nico’s words are just a whisper.  
“I’m not as good with words as you are. Can I show you instead?”  
Kevin barely manages a nod before Nico’s lips graze his own in such a gentle touch it steals a soft sigh from the depth of Kevin’s lungs.  
On all the many occasions they’ve been together, Nico has never kissed him like _that_. It was always straight forward, daring, a challenge to a fight about dominance. Now he nips at his lips carefully and cradles Kevin’s jaw with his long warm fingers, caressing his skin without holding him in place. A touch, not a grasp. Nico’s mouth is light and warm against his, soft skin tenderly moving along the curve of his mouth. 

Kevin breaks the kiss and stares at him in utter disbelief. Nico’s grin is partly smug and partly surprised, as well.  
“Lay back.” He mutters then against his lips and steals another one of those breath taking, earth shaking kisses from Kevin’s lips, who instantly sinks back into the cushions.  
Nico is over him within fragments of a second, gently sitting down on Kevin’s lap, keeping his body weight away from him.  
But Kevin doesn’t feel dominated, he doesn’t feel challenged, he just feels Nico’s tongue tapping against his lips and grants him access immediately, hungry for the touch. His hands develop a life on their own and pull Nico closer, further down and deeper into the touch. Kevin’s breath falters when their tongues touch and buries his hands in Nico’s hair, scraping over his skull and pulling at the short blond strands. His half hard erection twitches against Nico’s crotch, searching fraction and finding not enough. 

Suddenly Nico leans back and his eyes are serious, but his rapid breathing and the flicker of lust in the cobalt blue betray him. He swallows audibly and plants an open palm onto Kevin’s chest.  
“Don’t.” he whispers hoarsely. The dark sound makes a shiver run down Kevin’s spine, but the tone makes him prick his hears, too. He cocks his head.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Nico shakes his head.  
“I want this to be different. I want to show you something. Will you let me?”  
“Can I touch you?”, Kevin asks and it sounds needy and pleading and he couldn’t care less about his dignity right now.  
“Sure, but… let’s go slow, alright?”

And Kevin understands. He gets, what Nico wants from him and inexplicable warmth shoots through his entire body, embraces his heart and makes it jump in anticipation and affection. He cups Nico’s face and guides him down again, places a tender kiss to his lips.  
Nico lets his hands run through Kevin’s hair as if he wants to sketch every last strand with his fingers.  
Kevin sighs into Nico’s mouth, when he kisses his jawline and neck. No teeth, but feathery kisses covering the delicate skin below his ear, hot breaths meeting goosebumps. Nico slips a hand underneath his black shirt and meets the soft skin of his flanks.  
Nico tugs at the shirt testily and quirks an eyebrow questioningly. Kevin nods, tongue-tied and heated, and a second later the shirt finds its place on the floor next to the bed, unneeded and forgotten the very second it hits the carpet. Nico sits back and looks at Kevin, lets his eyes wander over naked skin and dark tattoos. Kevin shifts awkwardly. He’s never felt more examined in his life and flexes his abs unconsciously. Nico notices and chuckles hoarsely.  
“You’re beautiful.” He states and Kevin’s mouth falls open.  
_Who are you and what have you done to Nico Hülkenberg?!_ he wants to joke, but the ability to form words abandons him once and for all. Instead, he just blinks and feels an awkward smile spreading on his lips. 

Nico bows down and scatters light kisses on his chest, covers his whole tattoo with feathery touches, from one wing tip to the other and across his sternum. Kevin expected teeth, a tongue and bites, being marked and branded, but Nico makes no indication in being possessive towards him. His breathing hitches when a thumb circles around his nipple, but what follows aren’t bites but more kisses. His sides are ticklish, but Nico is so sensitive, he enjoys every touch and when his tongue dives into his navel, Kevin’s hips jerk upwards. Nico breathes against the wet skin and Kevin’s eyes flutter shut, his hand searching for Nico’s. The blonde intertwines their fingers and licks over firmly flexed abs.  
“God, Nico…” he sighs and Nico smiles at him calmly. His whole body feels ablaze from being barely touched. He never thought that this much tenderness and patience slumbered behind Nico’s surface of dirty and belligerent sexiness. And he never thought he would like being touched like that, feathery, calmly and almost innocently. Not for a long time has he felt so turned on, fiery and starved.  
Nico mouths at his skin, trails further down and Kevin’s hand slips out of Nico’s hair, when the German kisses the tentative skin around his hipbone.  
_It’s because it’s him._ he thinks with half a brain cell. He feels Nico’s thumb circling over his wrist and then he finally opens his jeans, want reflecting in his eyes, when he pulls the fabric down. Kevin lifts his hips eagerly, toeing off his socks and throwing everything aside without a single care where his clothes land in the end.  
Nico retraces the path he took back up again and licks at Kevin’s lips, who instantly slings an arm around his waist and holds him as close as possible. Goosebumps spread over his naked shoulder blades and he mouths at Nico’s collarbone, drowning out a needy gasp as their naked chests brush. They both moan, when their crotches touch, radiating heat through the thin fabric of their shorts.  
Kevin slips his tongue into Nico’s mouth, letting a thumb trace over his throat ever so lightly and earns a suppressed moan in return. They kiss deeply and lazily until Kevin twitches impatiently underneath him and gets a wide grin in return.

“Please.” he murmurs, depending on Nico’s guidance, trusting his lead through this, because he depends on him and trusts him – and dares to do both in so many areas of his life.  
And Nico guides him back into the sheets, deeper this time and leans over him, pressing their hips together and licking into his mouth.  
His fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts and pull them down in one swift movement, making Kevin gasp at the sudden flow of air around his midst. Instantly, Nico is all over him and he may be patient and sensitive, but he doesn’t tease Kevin unnecessarily, when he presses a kiss into the hollow of his hip, licking a wet path over his inner thigh.  
“I want to taste you.”  
The second he presses a soft kiss to the top of Kevin’s cock, a deep moan escapes his lips and he jerks up his hips.  
“Sshh, Kev, calm.” Nico murmurs and his hands cradle the black tribal tattoo on Kevin’s waist soothingly.  
“Easier said than done.” He huffs and bites his lip. “Do that again. Please.” Kevin begs and Nico does, mouthing at his tip again and taking it in an inch, holding it between his lips. The heat is almost too much for Kevin, he buries a fist into the rumbled sheets and a loud gasps escapes his lips.  
He arches his back, when his cock slips deeper into Nico’s mouth, dips into the wet heat and is welcomed by an eager tongue, which circles the dark red tip.  
“Jesus Christ!” Kevin hisses and gulps frantically, holding onto Nico’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him on solid ground.  
His thoughts stumble, falter and come to a complete halt, being replaced by Nico. Nico, who captures him whole, occupying all of his body and mind and soul.  
Kevin arches his back further, when Nico scoots closer, takes him in even deeper. Kevin feels a high whimper clawing its way up his throat. The touches are too much, the sensations are too much, everything he feels for Nico gets too much to handle all of a sudden.  
This is different than everything Kevin has ever experienced and he realises that, when he lifts his head and meets Nico’s gaze.  
It’s not vulgar, although Nico’s lips are firmly clutched around his achingly twitching cock. It’s hot, lust clouding the blue eyes, turning them into the depths of a troubled sea, but it’s the openness, the sincerity and depth he sees in the cobalt of Nico’s eyes that almost makes Kevin tumble over the edge. Nico realises it and lets his cock slip out of his mouth. 

“You are so gorgeous.” he gasps and lets his finger traces over Kevin’s parted lips, sketching his expression again, taking in everything the Dane offers him, blatantly, open, unafraid.  
Kevin opens his mouth wider and taps his tongue against the finger. Nico’s eyes widen at the sight of Kevin’s closed eyes and hollowed cheeks, when he sucks at the fingertip eagerly.  
“Fuck.” He gasps and his hand slips to his own flinching cock, closing a trembling hand around the shaft and squeezing tightly.  
He pulls away from Kevin and brings their cocks together, drowning out Kevin’s surprised moan with a tender kiss. 

Then he bows down again and Kevin’s softly gasped “Nico!” gets stuck in his throat when Nico takes his hot cock into his mouth again.  
He lifts a hand and Kevin captures his fingers with his lips, wetting them blatantly. Nico has to close his eyes, because the sight of that would definitely make him come in an instant and this isn’t how he wants this to end. He wants Kevin. Completely, wholeheartedly, neck and crop. 

So he withdraws his damp fingers from Kevin’s lips and lowers them until he meets the hot skin of Kevin’s rear.  
“Shit.” Kevin hisses at the sensation, bracing himself for the burn of being claimed, but Nico doesn’t press into him right away. He takes his time, circles the tight muscle, spreading wetness and carefully tapping against the sensitive skin of his entrance.  
Nico’s breathing hitches, when he feels Kevin’s flesh relaxing, making room and giving in.  
He pushes in cautiously. Kevin’s moan is a long drawn-out sound of pleasure, something Nico has never heard before and he kisses his inner thigh as a response.  
The muscle clenches around the first digit, reluctantly giving way, when Nico works him open with calm and caring movements. 

The minutes pass and Kevin gets reduced to a quivering pile of sweat and lust. Sweat covers his chest, his abs twitch, he has a fist firmly buried into the sheets.  
His moans are nothing more but shaky and hoarse exhales, when Nico withdraws the three fingers from his body and bends over him.  
He kisses him frantically, their earlier agreement to go slow slightly tipping over. Nico gasps into his mouth, when their crotches touch again and the soft whimper that Kevin doesn’t even try to suppress anymore tells him, he should hurry up – for their both sakes. 

He presses down and Kevin squirms underneath him, blinking feverishly and obviously searching for his voice.  
“You want me to turn around?”  
The absolutely destroyed and raw timbre of his voice makes pre-cum leak from Nico’s steely hard cock.  
He manages to shake his head.  
“I want to look you in the eyes, when you come.”  
Kevin’s eyes fall shut at that statement and his head lulls back with a strained whimper, when he feels Nico’s cock tapping against his entrance.  
The second Nico presses into him, slick heat making it easy to enter, a loud roar of freed lust detangles itself from Kevin’s sore throat and reverberates through the hotel room. It is met by Nico’s equally unashamed moan in the air between them.  
Nico pushes in deeper, bottoming out and stops still for a second. 

The world stops turning, when Kevin lifts a trembling hand and cups Nico’s cheek in a savouring gesture. Cradling damp fingers, soft fingertips delicately holding his cheek.  
Nico’s eyes flutter shut, sweat drips from his forehead and onto Kevin’s heaving chest.  
Kevin’s muscles clench around Nico and he gasps at the tightness.  
The heat consumes every last cell of his body, burns him alive and sets his heart ablaze.  
He quivers a moan and Nico catches his with his lips, giving them both time to adjust and relish the non-existent distance between their bodies and souls. 

“Ah.” Kevin hisses, when Nico finally starts moving. Careful but steady thrusts into pliant heat, welcomed by breathless moans. Kevin slings an arm around Nico’s back, stroking firm muscles and his legs embrace his slim waist, pulling him closer.  
Nico bows down deeper, stealing a kiss from Kevin’s lips and mouthing at the sensitive skin below his ear.  
Kevin arches his back and the next thrust hits his prostate and it makes him scream.  
His oversensitive body jolts upright, into Nico’s firm chest, who keeps on pushing into him and hits that sweet spot again and again and again.  
Nico’s rhythm, slow but thorough, deep without being painful gets too much. Kevin presses a hand over his mouth, but Nico catches it and cradles his fingers.  
“Hold on to me.” He breathes and Kevin does. Specks of false light dance at the corners of his vision and he clings on to Nico’s hand, that presses him into the sheets. Stabilizing, not chaining. Supporting, not restraining.  
Nico sits back a little, pulls Kevin’s hips up and the angle gets even better. Kevin curses in every language he decently mastered. Nico’s free hand finds his cock and works him in slow and steady movements.  
“Oh, my God.”  
His whole body tingles and a blazing inferno roars up in his loins, consuming him and daring to capsize his sanity.  
Nico sees it and groans.

“Come for me, Kev. I want to see it.”  
Kevin’s eyes tear open and he clings to Nico, whose voice is just as dark and coarse as his demanding movements. He bows down again, lets go of his cock and cups his cheek with one hand, thumb circling over Kevin’s chapped lips.  
“Look at me, Kev. Don’t look away. I need to see you.”  
Kevin mouths at the tip of his finger and Nico’s hips snap forward in anticipation. 

It’s the intimacy, the closeness, the sparkling blue of Nico’s eyes, that gets too much for Kevin.  
He moans, when Nico hits his prostate in a constant rhythm and it’s in that moment, that his orgasm crashes over him like one huge wave of all-consuming fire.  
He doesn’t know, whether he curses, scratches Nico’s back or bites his collarbone, everything blurs and his body jolts up.  
He whimpers as hot cum splashes against his stomach and Nico’s chest. He moans, when Kevin grows even tighter around his cock and it’s the next thrust, which tips Nico over the edge as well.  
His hips stutter and hot cum spreads inside Kevin, which makes a raw moan mingle with Nico’s loud roar, when he goes completely rigid, eyes firmly locked with Kevin’s.  
He collapses on top of Kevin, a weighty pile of sweat and heavy breathing. Kevin draws circles over Nico’s back, trying to wipe away sweat, but merely smudging it deeper into his heated skin.  
They lay in silence for minutes, busy catching their breaths and contemplating what just happened.  
Kevin blinks at the ceiling and swallows frantically.  
Nico wipes his forehead at the pillow and sniffles. 

“Wow…”  
They say it in unison and it makes them both laugh until Kevin hisses, because Nico’s cock is still buried deep inside him and the vibration makes his oversensitive skin prickle.  
“Oh, sorry.” Nico mutters and pulls out as cautiously as in any way possible.  
Kevin screws his eyes shut and takes a deep breath.  
Nico’s blue eyes are dark and clouded, but full of care and worry.  
“You good?”  
Kevin grins wolfishly and nods.  
“Never been better.” 

They fall silent for another moment or two and when Kevin speaks he barely trusts his voice.  
“You are full of surprises. I didn’t know that was possible.” He means his breath-taking orgasm, probably the best he ever had, but he can’t form the words for whatever reason. “I didn’t know you… liked that.”  
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”  
It’s an accusation, although the German visibly tries to hide it. Kevin swallows drily.  
“I guess so.” He says, his brain too fogged and exhausted to think about anything else to say.  
“Yeah, maybe it’s because we haven’t spent enough time together to actually know these things about each other, isn’t it? Maybe you just don’t care enough.”

Kevin knows, he deserves that, the cold and jarring sarcasm, the bitterness in Nico’s dark voice but it doesn’t stop him from getting angry, too.  
“Look who’s talking. I mean, there’s two of us, Nico, don’t try and pin this on me.” He licks his lips and wipes his mouth. He sees Nico clenching his jaw and laughs humourlessly.  
“I mean, we don’t even really know each other. We never made the proper effort. I don’t know your favourite restaurant or what kind of music you’re into. I don’t know what you like about your hometown or your most precious childhood memory. I don’t know you, Nico, and you don’t know me, either.”  
Now that he's caught Nico’s anger like a disease he can’t stop venting his emotions. Nico sits next to him and stares at him with widened eyes. Kevin huffs and licks his lips.  
“For example, did you know, that my mother was seventeen when she had me? Did you know, that I read a lot of books about history and geography, because I skipped school so often as a kid in order to go karting, that I feel unsophisticated now and I’m trying to make up for that? Did you know, that my favourite place in the world is an abandoned beach chair outside of Copenhagen? I used to sit there and watch the tide and the seagulls for hours.”

Suddenly he feels tears dwelling up in him and his voice falters and stops still. All the regret and sadness and fear claw their way through Kevin’s chest, making it impossible to breathe. His nostrils flare and he shakes his head rapidly, blinking away burning tears. His chest hurts so bad he feels like screaming and the feeling of being weak and pathetic and needy makes inexplicable anger about himself rush through his veins.  
“I didn’t know that.” Nico’s voice is raspy and calm all of a sudden and when Kevin lifts his head, jaw clenched and vision blurred with unshed tears, he gasps voicelessly.  
Nico looks like a mirror of himself. Hurt and regretful and weary.  
He takes his hand into his own and presses a kiss to his knuckles. Rests his forehead against the soft skin.  
Nico’s smile is a little teary eyed, but daring and cheeky, when he lifts his head and looks Kevin in the eyes.  
“I do know a couple of things about you, though. I know, how jealous you were of the interviewer back in Baku, because she stood so close to me. I know, that your lower back is ticklish as hell and that you snore when you sleep on your left side, but not on right. I know the way your moans grow voiceless and your eyes widen just before you cum.”  
Kevin huffs.  
“Don’t make this about sex again.”  
“Why not?” Nico laughs hoarsely. “We’re pretty fucking good at… well, fucking.”  
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”  
“Yeah, I know. But it’s important, though. We are good together and..”  
His voice trails off and Nico sinks back into the cushions with a deep sigh.  
He pulls Kevin closer and Kevin lets him, dives into the touch. If a single tear drops onto Nico’s chest, he doesn’t notice. 

Silence covers them again and they both follow the paths of their own thoughts. Kevin thinks about the things, Nico said and about what just happened between them. Sex, that was so much more than sex for the first time in Kevin’s life. Their lips meet for a soft kiss, a contrast to their heated argument just seconds ago. Kevin takes it, as it is, because they are what they are – whatever they are in the end.  
Nico nuzzles against his side and Kevin draws lazy circles over his bare chest. The air is stale, warm and heavy with sex. Their bodies shimmer with sweat and cum cools rapidly on his stomach, but tired and comfortable warmth spreads inside his guts and Kevin pulls Nico closer to him, relishing his scent and body heat and whole being.

When Nico starts shifting underneath him, Kevin frowns.  
“What?” he asks with a raspy voice after a moment and Nico bites his lip.  
“I always believed that love was something pure and good, you know? It brings out the best in people.” Nico laughs humourlessly and still a bit out of breath. Kevin blinks, slightly confused. “I guess, I never really loved anyone, because now I know that falling in love means surrendering yourself completely to someone else. That’s why it’s “falling in love” and not “rising in love”, because we do it unintentionally and it’s fucking scary. We give away parts of ourselves or everything and it’s…” Nico searches for words and leans into Kevin’s touch when he lets a hand run through his damp hair. “It’s just awful. I mean, who could really want that? Losing yourself like that? And especially with you.”  
Nico sounds almost angry now and if the situation was slightly different and they didn’t lay in bed with their feet entangled firmly and breathings matched and the scent of sex lingering in the air, Kevin would be grasped by it and shaken to his core. But the situation is as it is and Kevin knows, that Nico isn’t angry at him – or anyone else in particular for that matter. 

“You are the way you are and I am the way I am and I have no clue, how this is supposed to work. We piss each other off by merely existing on the same planet and at the same time I couldn’t even imagine living on this damned planet without you in it.”  
Kevin chuckles at that and wants to say something, but Nico cuts him off.  
“I’ve read a quote once and ever since I met you it keeps coming back to me in a constant loop. “Love sets fire to our hearts and peace to our minds”. But you make my heart feel at peace and set my mind on fire and I don’t know what to make of it. I hate you so much at times, I could straight up murder you. And then you are all sweet and charming and sexy again and I realised, I can’t be without that…”  
“Wow, you really are the only person in this world who can turn a love confession into a death threat in under two seconds.”  
Nico’s head snaps up and suddenly he offers that cheeky grin, Kevin absolutely fell in love with. 

He realises it now. He fell for Nico a very long time ago and needed everything to go to pieces to come to terms with it ( _or cum to terms with it_ , he states mentally with a pubertal chuckle).  
Nico props himself up and leans his chin on Kevin’s chest after placing a quick peck to the wing carved into his skin with black ink.  
They look at each other for long seconds, stripping each other with their eyes, baring hidden emotions, drowning in blue and grey and green. 

“What if I do love you?” Nico asks calmly, but his voice trembles slightly like leaves in an early summer breeze. Uncertain, but not scared, brave, but not reckless.  
“Then it would be quite a lucky convenience, I guess.” Kevin smirks, giving in to the urge to tease Nico a little, because they are the way they are and always will be. He sees Nico taking the joke with some bitterness, but his smile stays unscathed and broad and beautiful.

Kevin sighs and shakes his head, suddenly annoyed with his own temper.  
“No, you know what, screw that. I’m done being an idiot around you. We won’t ever be that sappy again, no labels needed, right? But we might as well just cease the opportunity to be hopelessly pining dorks for once.” Kevin grins and licks his lips. “If you told me you loved me right now, I’d cup your face and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. I’d kiss you like I never wanted to kiss anyone else in my entire life. I’d kiss all air out of your lungs, steal your breath and hold you as close as possible for as long as possible, until I can draw every inch of your body blindfolded and by heart. I’d make you feel like the most loved and cherished person in the world, because you deserve it like no one else and because I love you and I’m so sorry it took me two fucking years to realise it.”

Nico just stares. His grin vanished and got replaced by an awe-struck expression. Kevin feels heat spreading on his cheeks ad swallows drily.  
And then Nico starts smiling. He smiles a heartfelt smile full of admiration and love. 

“I love you.” He says and Kevin does exactly what he promised. He sits up, cups Nico’s face and kisses him like there is no tomorrow, like he never wanted to kiss anyone else in his entire life. He kisses all air out of Nico’s lungs, until he’s a quivering bundle in his arms. And then he catches him and holds him as close as possible in his arms, pressing him against his chest, cradling his cheeks.  
He makes him feel like the most loved and cherished person in the world. 

They don’t part, not really, even when Nico draws back a little and blinks lazily while catching his breath.  
Kevin smiles at him and he seems almost surprised about his own want and –  
“I love you.” He confesses and it isn’t necessary to voice the emotion, because Nico _feels_ it resonating between them, inside his own body and even inside the depth of his soul.  
He grins belligerently and his head drops to Kevin’s shoulder, who wraps both arms around him and invites him into his warmth. 

“I knew you’d fall for me, you know? I’m just too damn irresistible with my good looks and talent.”  
“Wow, you really are an arrogant prick.”  
“Shut up, dumbass. You just said you love me, you cannot be mean to me anymore.”  
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise, bee poop.”  
“Oh God, this is a mistake.”  
“Nothing about us is a mistake. Not possible.”  
“I know. And you know what?”  
“Mh?”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you, too… Idiot.”  
“Asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one German phrase I used:  
> “Heilige Scheiße!” – “holy shit!“, hehe :D  
> and the Danish one:  
> "for pokker!" - "damn it!" 
> 
> Thanks for the ride, people, I hope you enjoyed this last chapter.  
> Tell me, what you think!
> 
> Stay tuned for more to come, I like them together, or check out my other stuff, if you liked this one. 
> 
> Cheers and read you soon,
> 
> Charona


End file.
